by Carol Roi
Finishing her workout, she walked into the kitchen, and poured a glass of water from the bottle in the refrigerator. She glanced at the boxes still stacked in the corner, and absent-mindedly opened one, discovering her telephone on top of the items packed inside. Taking it out, she set it on the counter, and plugged the cord into the jack on the wall. She turned back to the box, and nearly jumped out of her skin when the phone rang. "Guess that means it's turned on," she said to herself.
Putting the receiver to her ear, she said, "Hello!"
"Dee! Thank god! I've been trying to reach you all afternoon but you haven't been answering the phone!"
"Estrellita! It's good to hear from you too!" Diandra replied, teasing her student. "I just now found the phone and plugged it in. I'm fine, Dana. Sorry if I worried you."
Dana Scully relaxed in her chair, and mouthed "She's fine," to Mulder. He nodded in acknowledgement and went back to his computer. "Dee, the reason I've been trying to get a hold of you is because Mulder and I had a phone call this afternoon from Detective Ellison of the Cascade PD. I don't know what you did to set him off, Dee, but he's been doing some serious digging. He was asking questions about the Crane woman and Phoebe."
She felt the floor drop out from under her. "What?!" she exclaimed, leaning against the counter for support. "How in the hell did he find out about that? If he wanted to know anything, all he had to do was ask! He's my next door neighbor, for god's sake!"
"Your neighbor? Dee, you just moved in; are you pissing off the locals already?"
"I guess so," she replied, feeling her shock changing slowly to anger. "I save his partner's life, and this is the thanks I get. I think Detective Ellison and I are going to have a little chat."
Dana had seen her mentor's temper in action. "Dee, don't do anything that's going to get you in more trouble," she said. "Mulder and I dealt with him. He's not going to find out anything about you from the FBI. We just wanted to warn you he was poking around."
Sighing, Diandra said, "Thanks for the warning, Dana. And tell Mulder I said 'hi'. Talk to you later."
The second she hung up the phone, it rang again. "Now what?" she wondered. Picking it up again, she said, "Hello."
"Diandra." The familiar voice was tight, as if the caller were trying to keep his irritation under control.
"Duncan! What a pleasant surprise! Tell me you're calling with good news…"
"Diandra, I have just had the most unpleasant conversation with a very annoying, pushy, Cascade Police Detective. It was not enough for him to hear my 'no comment' over the phone, he had to DRIVE to Seacouver and annoy me in person. What in the hell kind of trouble are ye in now?" he said, his Scottish brogue showing in his frustration.
"Duncan," she said, "I am really, really sorry. I had no idea Ellison would be this much trouble. Dana called right before you did; he's already talked to her and Mulder. I don't know what he's looking for; all I did was save his roommate's life last night, and now he's asking questions about DC."
"Saved his roommate's life how, Dee? By cutting off someone's head?"
She leaned her elbow on the counter, and rested her head on her hand. "I healed him," she said so softly MacLeod almost didn't hear her. "I didn't have a choice, Duncan. He would have died if I hadn't helped him. And I couldn't let that happen. He's too important."
MacLeod could never stay angry at the dark haired Immortal. "I'm sorry, Diandra. I didn't mean to imply you should have let him die. You know I trust your judgement."
"I know, Duncan. It's just been a rough two days. I'm beginning to think I should have taken you up on your offer to stay in Seacouver."
"You know that offer still stands," MacLeod said gently.
"I know. But the time isn't right. I don't know when it will be, but I just know it isn't now. Look, I'll give you a call after I get this all straightened out and maybe you can come down to Cascade for a couple days. I'm in serious need of a good workout."
"Is that all I am to you? A sparring partner?" Duncan laughed.
"Of course, Duncan. You know I only spar with people I can beat the pants off of."
"We'll see about that. Until next time, Dee." MacLeod hung up the phone.
She stood for a moment in the disaster of her kitchen, feeling like a hand was slowly tightening its fingers around her heart. She had felt so positive, so sure of the direction she was taking. Now all she wanted to do was pack everything back in boxes, and run. With a cry of rage, she flung the phone across the room, smashing it into the door.
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Blair was entering the loft again, after taking the trash downstairs to the dumpster, when he heard a scream and then a loud crash come from Diandra's apartment. Stepping across the hallway, he knocked loudly on the door, calling out, "Dee, are you okay?"
The door was flung open suddenly, and an obviously upset Diandra appeared in the opening. "Dee, what's the matter, what's wrong? I heard a noise and…"
"Your roommate is what's the matter," she hissed. "He's been running a background check on me!"
Blair was shocked. "I'm sorry, Dee, I didn't know anything about it. If he had told me what he was going to do, I would have talked him out of it. How did you find out?"
Stepping back, she allowed him to enter. "I have friends who care about me. As soon as Ellison spoke with them, they called me. Unfortunately, I didn't plug the phone in until a few minutes ago. I guess he's been at it all day; he's had time to call the FBI, and drive up to my old apartment in Seacouver to interrogate my friend there. Duncan was NOT amused." Realizing she had been clenching her hands into fists, she forced herself to uncurl her fingers.
The action did not go unnoticed by Blair. "I am sorry," he repeated again. "I'm sure Jim thought he was only looking out for me…"
"Jesus, Lobo, if this is his way of showing how much he appreciates me saving your life, I'd hate to see what he does to people who've hurt you. I'd have gladly told him whatever he wanted to know if he'd just bothered to ask." She whirled away from him, bending to pick up the pieces of the broken telephone from the floor.
"Look, Dee," Blair said, trying to calm her, "I'll talk to Jim about it when he gets home."
"Talk to me about what, Chief?" came the familiar voice from the open doorway.
Diandra's back was to the door, and Blair saw her stiffen at the sound of Jim's voice. She rose slowly to her feet, her body language shifting from annoyance to controlled anger. As she turned around, her blue eyes smoldering, Blair realized for the first time that she was seriously dangerous.
"Busy day, Detective?" she said in way of greeting, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Jim looked from her expressionless face to Blair's worried one. "Am I missing something here?" he asked.
"Did you find all the answers you were looking for today? Oh, don't look so surprised, Detective. I know all about your phone calls to the FBI and your little fishing trip to Seacouver. I hope Duncan threw you out on your ass." The slight flush that rose on Ellison's cheeks confirmed her words. "I see he did."
Setting the broken phone down on the kitchen counter, Dee moved through the living area into the studio, dragging a large workout mat into the middle of the floor. "Blair and I had an interesting conversation this morning, while you were busy checking me out. He told me all about you being a hotshot army ranger, surviving in the jungles of Peru. Let's just see if you live up to your reputation." Padding barefoot into the center of the mat, she pulled her T-shirt off, exposing the spandex tank top underneath, and waited.
Blair and Jim had both followed her into the studio, curious as to where she was heading. "Oh, come on, Detective, don't tell me you can't defeat a mere woman in hand to hand."
Jim moved further into the studio, his eyes quickly taking in the workout equipment and the impressive display of weapons on the wall. He took a good look at Diandra, noting her easy, confident stance, and the tight, toned muscles of her legs, arms, an
d stomach. He sized up his chances, knowing he had an advantage of three inches in height and fifty pounds on her. He thought he could take her. Slipping off his shoes, he stepped onto the mat.
"Jim," he heard Blair say in a voice only a Sentinel could hear, "Jim, she's an expert. This is stupid. Don't do this."
Ignoring the warning of his guide, Ellison returned her ceremonial bow, and they began to circle each other, looking for an opening. She threw the first punch, which he easily blocked with a forearm. They traded blows in quick succession, each one quickly blocked by the other. Seeing an opening in her defense, Jim took it, aiming a savage left at her head. Instead of blocking as she had done before, Diandra stepped to the side, grabbing his wrist as it went past, holding it as she planted a solid kick to his now unprotected ribs. Releasing him, she danced back out of range, waiting until he regained his balance before she struck again. Jim let her close enough to land the blow on his shoulder, hoping to grab her in the same way she had him. Instead, she used her momentum to carry her past him, whirling out of reach of his hands, while snapping a savage kick to his right knee. Knocked off stride by the kick, Jim was slow to recover, and it cost him. A two handed blow between the shoulders doubled him over her waiting knee. His breath exploded from his lungs and spots danced in front of his eyes. Struggling to his feet, he was rewarded with another kick to his already injured knee, and as he went down, he felt her arm come around his throat from behind, holding him helpless in a choke hold.
"Is this what you wanted to know, Detective Ellison? How I could take out two armed men in under thirty seconds?" she growled. Her grip on his neck tightened. "This is how. I would have been happy to tell you I've been a martial arts master for more years than I care to admit, but you would rather go poking around in my past…"
Jim struggled to get enough air into his lungs to speak. He could see Blair standing at the edge of the mat, his hands curled into fists, his eyes fearful, but he held himself in check, not wanting to give her any reason to hurt his partner any further. "Who the hell are you?" Jim wheezed.
She pressed her face close to his, whispering in a voice he couldn't have heard without his heightened senses, "I am Diandra of Delphi, Ch…" Her words cut off abruptly, as she saw the black mare out of the corner of her eye. She was rearing back on her hind legs, her sharp front hooves pawing the sky, before crashing down inches from the skull of a cowering black jaguar. The horse's screaming cry of triumph deafened Dee, and she let go of Jim, stepping back as if she had been burned, shaking her head to clear the vision. When she opened her eyes again, the mare was gone, and Blair was helping Jim to his feet, asking if he was hurt.
Jim shook his head in response to Blair's inquiry, even though his ribs ached, and he could feel his knee swelling. Turning slowly, he looked back at Diandra. She stood in the middle of the mat, her back straight, every inch the conquering warrior, and her eyes he could swear were glowing with a brilliant blue fire.
"Stay out of my way, Ellison," she warned, "and I'll stay out of yours." She didn't move until Blair and Jim had left the apartment, closing the door behind them. Then she collapsed to her knees, tears spilling down her face. She knew what the black mare meant, and she couldn't go through it again, she couldn't.
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Entering the loft, Jim sat down on the couch, wrestling with his pain dials. Diandra hadn't hurt him badly, but his aching ribs and knee were only adding to his self-disgust. Blair headed to the kitchen, and Jim could hear him filling a plastic bag with ice. Crossing to where Jim sat on the sofa, Blair handed him the ice without a word, simply glaring at him, his hands on his hips.
Jim finally broke the silence. "Okay, Chief, you were right and I was wrong. That was a stupid thing to do."
"Yeah," Blair agreed, sitting down next to him, "it was. What were you thinking, running a check on our neighbor? She saved my life last night; that ought to at least give her an advantage over the rest of the people on Jim Ellison's shit list."
"I said I was sorry, Chief."
"Yeah, well, you're talking to the wrong person. Dee is who you should be apologizing to," Blair snorted and turned to stare out the French doors.
"Look, Blair, I know you really like her, but I have my doubts about her. I turned up some things today that set off all my alarms." Jim shifted the ice pack to the other side of his knee.
"Like what?" he asked.
"Like she seems to have an unlimited source of income, never stays in one place too long, and is somehow involved in two murders in DC."
Blair snapped his head around to stare at Jim. "What do you mean, 'involved in two murders'?"
Sighing, Jim went over what he had learned from the FBI. "So you see, they didn't come right out and say she was involved, but the impression I got was that they knew more than they were telling about what happened. And I find it very interesting that she is the only person questioned in the case with any access to swords, and is an expert in their use. I can't believe Mulder didn't pursue his investigation of her further. I think she convinced him to drop it, because of her relationship with him."
Drawing his legs up so he was sitting cross-legged on the couch, Blair leaned his elbows on his knees, and propped his head on his hands. "So you're saying Dee and this Agent Mulder are lovers." His voice held a note of disappointment.
Jim shook his head. "Not anymore, according to Dr. Pallas' colleague at Georgetown, but she could be wrong. Though Mulder did give me the impression their relationship was over." He changed positions on the cushion, and winced as pain shot through his side.
The wince did not go unnoticed by Blair. "Let me take a look at your side, Jim," he said, automatically reaching for Jim's shirt and tugging it loose from the waistband of his pants. Jim obligingly turned the injured area toward Blair. He ran his fingers over it gently. "This is bruising up pretty bad, Jim. Are you sure your ribs aren't broken?"
"Yeah, I'm sure," he replied. "It's just gonna be tender for a few days."
Pulling Jim's shirt back down, Blair said, "I'd say you were pretty lucky then. It could've been much worse."
Jim shook his head. "It wasn't luck, Chief. She was pulling her punches. If she'd wanted to send me to the hospital or worse, she could have. And there was nothing I could've done about it."
Blair stared at him, not believing his ears. He had watched the fight with his heart in his throat, believing that his sentinel could at least defend himself. To now learn that the only reason Jim wasn't seriously injured was because Diandra had been in complete control of the fight from the start was unsettling to say the least. He had always trusted his Blessed Protector to come through for him in any situation. Now, he realized, there could be a time when he would fail, and it could cost him his life. A shudder ran through him, as he remembered his conversation with Dee, about what happened when a guide/sentinel pair was separated by death. He never wanted to experience that.
"Jim, if you don't mind," he said, "I'm going to bed." Jim shook his head, and rising from his seat, Blair headed for his room, knowing he wouldn't get much sleep. He had a great many things to ponder, and a decision to make.
Jim climbed the stairs shortly after Blair had entered his room and shut his door for the night. He undressed and lay down on the bed, but sleep eluded him for a long time. Today had been an eye-opener in more ways than one. He felt like he had been given some kind of test, and he had failed, badly. The fight with Diandra had not done anything to allay his doubts about her, and he was more convinced than ever she was trouble. And yet, there was something about her…what was that Mulder had said? If you're her friend, you're under her protection for life…if you're her enemy…after tonight, Jim knew what she was capable of. He hoped his revealing what he had discovered about her would discourage Blair from hanging around her. And if it had taken getting his ass kicked to keep his guide safe, well, then it was a small price to pay.
When he finally fell asleep,
he dreamt of a beautiful meadow of wildflowers nestled among snow-capped mountains, the sun high in a turquoise sky. A black horse galloped through the field, bucking and playing, a silver wolf frolicking at its side. The seemingly innocuous dream disturbed Jim more than any he'd had in a long time.
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Blair was up early the next morning, even before Jim was awake. He fixed himself a cup of coffee, and carried it out onto the balcony, sipping at the hot liquid, and watching the sunrise. He hadn't slept well at all, and when he had, he'd dreamed Jim was in trouble, and he was helpless to come to his aid, much like he had been in the dream he'd had the afternoon before, about the Companion, the wolf and the jaguar. The Companion's words were still fresh in his mind. "You've made your decision here in the spirit world. Now you must make it in the land of the living."
